From Paris, With Love
by DD Agent
Summary: To catch an elusive arms dealer, Gibbs and Jenny have to resume their Paris aliases whilst being watched by the team. For the NFA Thespian Challenge.
1. Ticket Office

**From Paris, With Love by DD Agent**

_This was written for the Thespian Challenge at NFA. I had great fun writing it, delving into the possibilities of Jenny and Gibbs working together and how that would affect poor Tony. The fic is split up into three acts, two intermissions and a before and after performance piece. I will post it over three days. Really hope you enjoy it! :D_

_Ticket Office_

"You were watching me."

Jenny turned around from her customary position by her large window to smile at Jethro, standing in his traditional position by her desk. She moved her hands over her stomach, trying not to feel self conscious around him. But she couldn't help it - their game of chess had left her queen open to an attack from his king. Jenny looked down to the floor before meeting his eyes.

"I was watching Carson. He's quite a kid."

Jethro chuckled and sat on the edge of her desk. "Yeah, he is. Makes you wonder…"

She bit her lip before stepping forward. It wasn't checkmate just yet; the game between them wasn't over until she said it was. Although the king was always the deciding factor, the queen was the most powerful piece of the game. And his words had provided a new strategy for her to finish it.

"Makes you wonder what, Jethro?" _Say__the__damn__words,__Jethro,__stop__acting__like__you__hadn't__wondered__all__night__what__redheaded__blue__eyed__children__would__be__like_.

But he took the checkmate. "Nothing. Goodnight, Jenny."

Jenny nodded, and rested her hands on the back of her neck. There seemed to be something on his mind, but he wasn't being vocal about it. When had he ever voluntarily shared, though? Jethro was one of the most silent men she had ever encountered, apart from in bed. Thinking about him like that made her blush, and as she twisted her head back to the door she realised he had moved closer to her. Was this the surrendering move?

"Why now?" She licked her top lip, trying to work out her answer to his abrupt question. But she wasn't quick enough for Jethro. "Is it because Hollis is gone? Because here I was thinking that once she'd leave you'd go back to looking at me like I'm just another one of your agents."

She shook her head. "That's not fair."

"Don't lie, Jen, I know your body too well not to recognise it when you do." She shivered under his scrutiny. "As soon as I got together with Hollis you were so jealous. Getting in little jibes, trying to pretend you weren't but everyone and _Palmer_could see that you were. Your whole first year as Director you never looked at me in that way. You never wanted me back, and now…why?"

Jenny bowed her head, not sure that she could give the answer he needed. But she only had one she could give him. She met his blue eyes, and she could see that his lip was quivering. He was ready to surrender to her, to knock his king from his fingers. But as they reached for hers, Jenny couldn't make her mouth say the words needed for the game to be a draw.

So he left, and she sat and cried alone.

_You are the only thing I have left. _


	2. Act One

**From Paris, With Love by DD Agent**

_Enjoy! Parts Three and Four will be up tomorrow!_

_I do not own _NCIS _or any of its characters, or its settings - all belongs to the lovely folks at CBS.  
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_Act One_

"Got a body in Rock Creek Park," Tony DiNozzo announced to the group, Dispatch not being able to get through to Gibbs. "ID says it's a former Marine. Boss?"

Tony looked over to see that his boss wasn't even paying attention. He was more focused on Director Shepard walking along the catwalk in calf shaping boots and a skirt that other Agency Directors _definitely_wouldn't be able to pull off. Gibbs' usual gaze on the Director had mostly been concern, sometimes even a playful hint of something long since past. Now it was just plain angst.

"Boss?"

"I heard you the first time, DiNozzo. Grab your gear; we're heading to Rock Creek Park."

Today was going to be one of those days, Jethro had decided. Jenny was looking beautiful, and the fuck me boots he _knew_came from Rome [because he had bought them for her and made love to her in them] were making their conversation a few weeks ago replay in his mind like a bad pop song. Normally the prospect of a case would drive all thoughts of Jenny out of his mind, but his gut was telling him this wasn't going to be just any case.

He took his car to Rock Creek Park whilst his team went in the truck - he believed he'd tossed the keys to McGee but he wasn't sure. His mind was trying to play fill in the blank for his conversation with Jenny, and his feet were determined to break his accelerator by the end of the day. Jethro couldn't recall walking to the crime scene, but his brain was definitely jogged by the sight of the marine in front of him with an execution style shot in the middle of his forehead.

"Definitely a gunshot wound to the head," Ducky announced. He peered around the back of the victim's skull. "And there's the exit wound. I would assume we're missing a slug, Jethro."

He hummed. "DiNozzo, David. Go search for the missing bullet. McGee, look around and see if our killer left any trace evidence."

Jethro knelt down beside Ducky. He had been in this mood for weeks, and soon the medical examiner would be asking questions. It wouldn't take him long to connect the dots between his foul attitude and the lack of time Jenny spent involving herself in cases.

"Do you see the powder burns there, Jethro? The slight stippling? This was a point blank shot."

He nodded, and took a few more notes down. "Thanks Ducky. Let me know when you start the autopsy, I want to know why this Marine ended up dead."

X

"Marine's name is Corporal Lance Tracey," McGee started to explain. "He was discharged due to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder after his second tour in Iraq - he was one of the first ones out there after 9/11."

Jethro sat listening to information about their victim, trying to focus. Jenny was having a discussion with another team up on the catwalk, and he was finding it hard not to stare at her mouth. She kept licking her lips, and he could feel his hands start to shake.

He wondered when things would reach boiling point between them. They had been on a low simmer for the last year - she had been more focussed on toppling down frogs and he had been working on his own happy ending with Hollis. But even though he had enjoyed being with Holly and had indeed thought of their relationship as more than a quick work fling, he had always known that something would happen with Jenny. The three years they had been entwined in each other's lives would not disappear just because they wished it. It was now more of a question of 'when' then 'if'.

"You find the bullet, DiNozzo?"

Tony nodded from across the bullpen. "Yeah boss, I-we did." He didn't need DiNozzo and David acting up. He needed them focussed. He hoped his glare made that clear. "Simple fifty four slug, Abby's running it now."

Ziva was about to explain more about Tracey's family when there was a shout from McGee's side of the bullpen. Gibbs turned his attention to him. "You got something, McGee?"

Tim stood up from his desk and put something up on the viewer. Gibbs shifted forward to get a better look at the square piece of paper McGee had put up.

"It's a theatre ticket. According to Abby there was five tickets found on Corporal Tracey's person, and around the crime scene I found dozens more, some covered in blood."

Gibbs smiled. That was something. "I take it our Corporal was selling tickets to make some quick cash. What's the play about?"

That's when McGee's smile faded. "The play is called _"__Tueur__Dans__Moi__"_. It's performing at a high end theatre just off Georgetown, The Play house. Haven't managed to find out exactly what the play is about, but I'll get on it, boss."

Jethro heard the click of her boots long before he saw the red hair pulled back into a clip, the slight shift in her gaze - her eyes went to him first. "No need to research, Agent McGee. The play is French; roughly translated the title means 'Killer in me'. It's the story about a hired assassin who is paid to kill everyone he's ever loved."

"Sounds cheery," Tony called from the other side of the bullpen. "Movie release?"

Jethro didn't miss the eye roll from Jenny. She liked this French crap, and the play sounded interesting to him, he'd been in the position the character had been - nothing more than a man with a gun.

"Shall we get tickets for opening night, Director?" Jethro asked, trying to provoke a response in Jenny. He got one, but it wasn't what he was expecting.

Jenny's eyes started to water, and Jethro wondered what button he had pressed. Still, she was a professional and managed to say the next line through the tears in the corners of her eyes. "The theatre company, Deumert Productions, are the only ones who produce the play. It hasn't been performed since '99 in Paris. I'd look into why they are performing it now, and in DC."

She swept through their group of desks and back up the stairs to her own office. Jethro felt the urge to follow her, to question as to why this play drew such a reaction from her. He had his suspicions, but another argument about Paris while a mystery lingered in DC was not a productive use of both of their times.

"Okay, McGee - see what you can find out about the production company, and what they've been doing for eight years. DiNozzo, David, does Tracey have any family?"

Ziva shook her head. "Only child, parents passed away a few years ago. He has no next of kin."

"Then go to the Play House and see if you can talk to Corporal Tracey's employer. If his death has something to do with the play, then I want you to find out what. If it doesn't, then at least get us a damn lead!"

His team scuttled off, and Jethro guessed it was time to face the music upstairs with Jenny.

X

There was a glass of bourbon waiting for him on the corner of her desk, and Jethro took it as he made his way over to sit on the sofa next to her. Jenny was drinking water - unless she had developed a taste for vodka that he didn't know about. The rain was dribbling down the window pane, the weather reminding him of Paris and the afternoons they had spent like this one, inside and talking for hours.

"We saw the play, didn't we?"

He could see dried track marks on her face. Why were they both so capable of rotting everything they came in contact with? "The last performance. Ducky got us tickets, said he thought we'd enjoy it."

Jethro frowned. "Why can't I-? When was this?"

"About a week before I left you."

He dropped the tumbler of bourbon down his throat, not even wincing at the burning sensation. Jethro had only felt that destroyed once before, and that was when Shannon and Kelly had been taken from him. With Jenny, he'd…he had thought about it all before, every plan, every kiss, every way he could have persuaded her to stay. As he sat forward, the glass tumbler dangling by his knees, he realised that the past didn't matter anymore.

"There's a chance that this may lead to undercover work."

"I have every faith that you can handle it, Jethro," Jenny took another sip of her water. "I won't be watching your back in MTAC; I don't think it'll be helpful."

Jethro nodded, and drained the few drops of bourbon from the glass and left it on the corner of her coffee table. He stood up, straightening his collar before walking through her office, his eyes kept on the floor. As his gaze shifted over her desk, he caught sight of a picture. It was of him and Jenny, in Paris, dressed to the nines. He remembered the bar, a small little place just around the corner from their safe house. He remembered that dress.

It had still been on the floor of their bedroom when he had woken up to find her gone.

He glimpsed back to see that Jenny was still staring at the tumbler of water, her eyes not focussing on anything but memories.

He pocketed the photograph, determined to do the same in his basement that night.

X

"Something weird is going on," Tony stated as they parked his car and headed to the Play House. It was known for its obscure and foreign plays, which the richer residents of Georgetown went to on a regular basis.

Ziva nodded. "I agree. Why stop performing a play for eight years and put on the new performance in Washington? Paris, yes. New York, perhaps. But Washington?"

Tony stopped near the entrance to the theatre. "I was talking about Gibbs and the Director. Something's going on there, and it has to do with this play. Or just in general, I can never be sure with them." Ziva reached forward to open the front door but Tony kept talking. "I've just remembered. You and Jenny were partners. Do you know what happened between her and Gibbs?"

Ziva rolled her eyes and tried not to reach for any of her weapons. "If I said anything it would be betraying Jenny's confidence. She asked me before I took this position that I not divulge anything of a personal nature that she shared when she became my partner."

Tony nodded. "So she and Gibbs had crazy French monkey sex, huh?" Ziva ignored him and walked through the doors to the theatre. Tony just stood outside, grinning. "I knew it!"

He stood there, smiling to himself and trying to stop but altogether enjoying the images of a young Jenny being seduced by a younger Gibbs. That was until Ziva grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and dragged him inside.

They showed their badges to the woman on reception, who in turn called someone down to deal with them. Tony and Ziva waited for a moment before a well dressed man came down a staircase in the back and turned to them with a tired smile on his face. He examined their badges to his satisfaction before deciding to address them.

"So, what can I do to assist the American Government this afternoon?" he asked, the French accent coming through in his voice.

Ziva showed the man a picture of Corporal Tracey. Tony just played on his phone. "Do you know this man?"

The Frenchman coughed. "Yes, he's Lance Tracey. He's been hand delivering tickets for us. Our clientele prefer that level of service - they're busy people. They don't have time to wait in line at the post office or come here. I take it he's dead?"

"Good call," Tony smiled, before frowning over his phone.

Ziva rolled her eyes and turned away from him. "Do you know of anybody who would want to kill him? Did he mention anybody who he was having a problem with?"

The Frenchman coughed again. Apparently a little quiche was stuck in his windpipe. "Tracey didn't mention anything that I know of. He just showed up, got his addresses and left. He came back and we paid him at the end of the day when we got confirmation from our clients that they had received their tickets." Two men came up behind him, and Tony still played on his phone. "If you'll please excuse us, its three days until opening night."

The two men that had joined Frenchie escorted Ziva and Tony out of the doors of the theatre and back into the cold. Tony did not look impressed, while Ziva looked mildly curious. And a little angry that her partner had not been as involved in the interview as normal.

"Do you get the feeling that something is going on in that theatre?"

Tony nodded. "Most definitely. And before you start yapping to Gibbs about how I'm not doing any work?" He showed Ziva the pictures he had taken of the men they had spoken to, and the few walking past in the background. "Let's run these through McGee and hope by the time we get a warrant to search the place they haven't already moved on."

Ziva bobbed her head, but Tony was already moving back to the car. Sometimes, her partner really surprised her.

X

"DiNozzo, what did you find out at the theatre?" Gibbs asked once all the team were assembled back in the bullpen.

Tony sighed before standing up and turning to the monitor. Some pictures sprung up on the screen. "They weren't very happy to be talking to us, and were desperate to get us to leave. Pushed us out the door which I thought was quite rude." He could see the glare starting to form on his boss' face. "_Anyway_, I managed to get pictures of all the men we were talking to but so far we have no names for them."

"That's not surprising," Gibbs replied, grimacing. His gut had been right at the beginning of the day. This was going to be a messy case.

McGee stood up next, putting his evidence up on the screen. "I couldn't find anything on Deumert Productions. Their website is just a name of a studio in Paris, not even a telephone number. I talked to Ducky and asked him to put the word out through his contacts about why they haven't performed this play in eight years. All he got back was that something had happened in Paris in '99 that shut down their operations, and they're only _now_in the position to start performing again."

Gibbs stood up from his desk, his eyes immediately drawn to behind the monitor. He watched as Jenny's legs came down the stairs to join them at their mini briefing. "Something isn't right here. I think the theatre is responsible for Corporal Tracey's death, but I don't know why."

"They could be smuggling all number of things through the theatre. If they bring their own technical equipment and costumes then they could bring guns, drugs…the extra performers could be human trafficking," Jenny chipped in, and for once Gibbs looked grateful.

The briefing turned into a family affair as Abby trudged into the bullpen, her face carved into a frown. Something had upset her. Without a word, she took over McGee's computer and put something up on the big screen.

"I ran Tony's photographs through every database I could think of. I got hits on the main guy you talked to, his name is Pierre Montgomery. French National with links to terrorism and arms dealing. His file says he works for an arms dealer named Cyrano. No one knows his real name, but I think its Jacques Morrell. At least that's the name on the records for Deumert Productions that I managed to hack into."

Jenny and Gibbs both stepped forward and looked at the fuzzy picture of Jacques Morrell that Abby had loaded onto the big screen. They both remembered his photograph, in another place, on another case.

"He's an arms dealer all right. Had links to some of the ones we tracked in Paris. No one could ever find the man behind the code name." Jethro cursed and slammed his hand on his desk. "Damn it, how could we be so close?"

Jenny went to rest an arm on his shoulder in comfort, but thought better of it. Instead she put her hand down on the desk. "We could get a warrant on suspected terrorist activity, but you know these men. They're very good at what they do and there is no _way_they are keeping any arms at the theatre. Would be too dangerous for one bumbling idiot to stumble across it."

Jethro looked up and saw the picture of Corporal Tracey back on the screen. "I think someone already did." He ran a hand through his hair and turned to his team. "Okay, the Director's right. The way these men have been taken down before is subterfuge, undercover." He didn't miss Tony's shudder. The Frog case was still fresh in everyone's minds, no one more so than DiNozzo and Jenny. "DiNozzo, David? You up for it?"

Ziva shook her head from her desk. "Gibbs, we can't. They would recognise us as Federal Agents instantly."

"Ziva has a point," Ducky announced, walking from the elevator over to the group with a face that both Jenny and Jethro had seen before. It had usually meant he was meddling. "Jethro, you seem to be missing the perfect solution here."

"And what's that, Duck?"

Ducky reached over and handed Jenny something, and Jethro peered into her outstretched hand to see what he had given her. It was two tickets to opening night of the play, in a box to boot. They must have cost a fortune. It wasn't apparent to Jethro why Ducky was giving them tickets, but Jenny seemed to be further ahead than he was and was vehemently shaking her head.

"The tickets are in the name of John and Jemma Vance. Purchased by Jemma's uncle, David, as an early anniversary present. After all, ten years is quite an occasion."

Jethro looked down at the tickets, then back up at Ducky. Jenny was almost crumpling them in her harsh grip.

"It's been eight years, Duck. I don't think-"

He turned towards Jenny, who looked as devastated as he did. The other team members weren't in their scope; it was only them and Ducky. Like it had been all those years ago. She licked her lips before sighing.

"I don't think we have a choice, Jethro. Looks like we're back together again."


	3. Intermission

**From Paris, With Love by DD Agent**

_I do not own NCIS or any of its characters, or its settings - all belongs to the lovely folks at CBS._

_Thank you for those who have put this story on alert or favourited it, I'm so glad you like where I'm going with it! Big thank you and strawberry pie to NCIS She-Demon, Prettycrazy, BritMonkey, left my heart in Paris and Paris-eternellement. Thank you all so much!_

_I decided to break up the posting a little, thought it would be easier for people to read and enjoy the story if it was broken up like this. So this is part three, part four will be up tomorrow and so on. Hope you enjoy!_

**_Intermission_**

_Paris, 1999_

_"You're not going out in that dress."_

_Jenny came into their bedroom in a devastating red dress, the slit in the side showing off her legs and the strapless top accentuating her cleavage. Although Jethro was very much enjoying the view of his lover, he didn't want her to go out to this play and be on display the entire night. He hated having to watch other men and be on guard when they were off duty. _

_His lover pouted a little. "Jethro, it'll be fine. It's just a dress."_

_"Maybe on the hanger."_

_Jenny giggled and went over to the bed where Jethro was reading one of his Russian books. It was a language she didn't speak, having found the Romance languages easy to learn from a young age rather than the Cyrillic. He put the book down and turned to his lover. Their mission in Paris was technically over, and in a week they would be heading back to Washington DC for a debrief and to start their future together. _

_"Promise you won't fall asleep in this."_

_"It's in French, isn't it?" _

_Jethro groaned into his book and Jenny hit him with a pillow. He retaliated by moving on top of her and pinning her wrists to the bed. When she was in the mood, she would happily let him hold her in place for hours. Jethro enjoyed it as well, he loved being able to cling onto the hurricane that was Jenny Shepard. _

_"Why don't we go to any Russian plays?" Jethro asked, moving his mouth over his lover's skin. He nipped at her collar bone, his tongue trailing up and down her jaw. A quick look up revealed that Jenny had closed her eyes, enjoying the sensations. "I know you don't speak it, but I don't speak French."_

_Jenny sighed softly as Jethro started to push down the red silk of Jenny's dress to see what lingerie she had chosen in her two hour ritual of getting ready. He approved of the black. "We're in Paris, Jethro."_

_"You telling me there are no Russians in Paris?" _

_He moved the fabric down her stomach, his mouth moving over her skin. Jenny sighed softly as the cold air hit the moisture he had left over the plains of her stomach. He let go of Jenny's hands to tug the fabric over her hips so to leave her completely bare to him. But Jenny's hands stopped him before he reached his destination._

_"We have to get ready for the play, Jethro."_

_"Promise we'll see a Russian play when we're in DC?"_

_He was so consumed with trying to get underneath Jenny's underwear that he missed the shadow crossing over her face. "I promise."_


	4. Act Two

**From Paris, With Love by DD Agent**

_I do not own NCIS or any of its characters, or its settings - all belongs to the lovely folks at CBS._

_Thank you to everyone who put this story on alert or has favourited it, makes me so happy to see that people are enjoying what I write! Thank you to Maggie and .02 for reviewing! :D _

_Part Five will be up tomorrow, Part Six will be up Monday and the concluding chapter will be online at Tuesday. Hope you all continue to enjoy the story! _

**_Act Two_**

"No. No. _No_."

Jethro turned around to see if Jenny was as upset about this situation as he was. She was just staring at the photographs littering her desk of them in Paris. "I see you've finally moved onto the bourbon."

She looked up at him, holding the glass tumbler. "Jethro, we know these men. We studied these men for _months_. The reason why we did what we did was because _no__one__with__a__badge__could__get__close__to__them_. If we show up with a warrant, then we lose any chance of shutting down their operations."

Jethro snorted from his position, this time looking out over the dreariness of DC. Did it ever stop raining? He barely noticed the weather unless he was staring out of Jenny's window. Looking anywhere but at his former lover.

"So what do we do? Put on an undercover operation for a year and wait until he comes into your study before we do anything?"

The glass that shattered over his head shook him out of his haze. He had almost forgotten who he was dealing with, and it certainly wasn't Director Shepard. And if it wasn't the Director then he could get away with all the things he had not been doing since she had took the job. Like pinning her to the windows of the office.

Her hip smashed against the glass, his fingers dug into her wrists. She would have bruises all over in the morning but in that moment she didn't care. Her foot curled around Jethro's ankle, forcing him to press into her.

"Isn't it funny how we can so easily slip into being them? I can remember how we met, how you proposed. Even the details we had for our fake marriage."

The ends of Jethro's mouth twitched in a smile. "The certificates buried in that little box downstairs. Along with all our ID's - driving licences will need to be updated."

Jenny shook her head. "Ever since I set up the OSP in LA they've been keeping on top of updating undercover agents. Everything should be in working order considering we weren't burned at the end of the op."

Jethro nodded, and moved his hand from Jenny's wrist to trail down her arm. He leaned forward and rested his head next to hers. When he raised her arm again, their fingers were entwined. As Jenny sighed softly, she felt Jethro stroking her ring finger.

"The rings. We'll have to get new ones."

He could feel her sigh against the back of his neck. "I still have my engagement ring. It's in the back of one of the drawers in my bedroom," Jenny exhaled. "Sometimes I…sometimes I put it on and think about you. About us."

"Well if we're being honest I still have our wedding bands. They're in my tool box. Along with your letter."

"I thought you would have burnt it."

Jethro spun Jenny around and pressed her into the glass of her window. His hands trailed down her sides and he left his head next to hers. He blew on the back of her neck. "I tried to. But I couldn't. Last piece of you I had was that _damn_letter."

She looked back at him, reaching for his hand to encircle her waist. Guiding him, his hand ended up on her stomach. He pushed into her, not a molecule of air between them. Her other hand reached up around his neck, spreading herself over him.

"Tony isn't going to handle this well. Watching us undercover, it's going to remind him of Jeanne."

He watched as a tear and then another ran down Jenny's face. "Maybe he'll realise he wasn't the only one who went undercover and fell in love, ignoring that it could never last. That it never lasts."

"I miss you Jemma."

The beginnings of the façade. So much made up their lives, the way they operated and the way they moved through the world. But here was the start of it all. Wide, innocent smiles and the look of love that had never once been faked.

She rested her forehead against his. "I miss you John."

X

"Ducky, you going to fill us in here?" Tony asked, staring at the bathrooms all the way across the bullpen, waiting for Jenny and Gibbs to come out.

The sun had set and it was now two days until opening night of the play. Jenny and Gibbs were going undercover in their old aliases, that was clear. But all the little nitty gritty pieces weren't common knowledge. Two rectangular silver boxes had been brought up from a vault down in the basement, and Jenny and Gibbs had taken one each. Tony had one of those himself, although he doubted it was as well constructed as the ones in these boxes. Tony DiNardo was nothing compared to John and Jemma Vance.

"John Vance and Jemma Barrett were a married couple travelling through Europe as part of an extended honeymoon. They occasionally met up with Jemma's brother and John's friend from work," Ducky started to explain. "It was an elegant cover. I was based in Paris, playing the role of Jenny's uncle. They would live and work undercover, gathering Intel in Paris. But for a time they went along the coast."

McGee looked up from where he and Abby sat. "What did they do there?"

"State sanctioned executions," Ziva replied. "It's how I first met Jenny, we both turned up to kill the same man. I didn't know her name until much later. At least, not her real one."

Tony was still staring at the bathrooms. "What happened in Paris between them Ducky? I mean, everyone's guessed they were sleeping together. But was it something more than that?" His body was shaking. He already knew the answer, but he was hoping for Jenny's sake that he was wrong.

Ducky went to speak, but it was Ziva who intervened. "There is only so much you can fake, and believe me I am gifted at picking it up. When I saw them together, I had no idea that they could be anything other than lovers. Other than Gibbs buying Jenny a knife, of course."

"Beautiful gifts, they both had matching knives throughout their partnership. I assume they both put them in drawers when they parted ways," Ducky added, looking at Ziva with a piercing look. She got the message - it really wasn't their place to announce to the group the ins and outs of Jenny and Jethro's relationship. But this wasn't Tony joshing for extra gossip. This was him trying to determine how much to hate Jenny for what she had put him through.

A door opened to the left, and the group turned to see Jethro come out of the bathroom. The polo shirt was gone, the badge and gun removed. His hair was brushed back, his reading glasses rested on his face. For once he was in a tie and braces, his jacket hung over the back of one shoulder. Very much like an investment banker, or a property lawyer.

"John Vance, I presume?" Tony asked, and Jethro nodded.

Gibbs put the jacket over the chair and rolled up his sleeves. He opened his desk drawer and removed a smaller silver box. Opening it up with a key from his pocket, he took out an elegant carbon knife. He and Ziva exchanged nods - anonymous to each other she had helped him buy that particular set for him and Jenny.

The last two items in the box was the letter Jenny had left him, and the wedding rings they had worn as part of their cover. He took the band out, still freshly polished and slipped it over his finger.

"Boss, you sure about this?"

Jethro sighed, glancing over to Tim and Abby with an attempt at a reassuring smile. "Yeah, McGee, I'm sure. The Director's right, we need to do this. They've already seen Tony and Ziva and we have had dealings with these types of people before."

He could see Tony's jaw clicking. He wasn't happy with the scenario, and Jethro wasn't either. This was going to open up too many fresh wounds, could possibly destroy what little working relationship they had. But it was the perfect choice, their only option.

He heard a squeal from Abby and Tim's side of the room and looked up to see that Jenny had come back from the bathroom. Her hair was parted differently. It was off her face, held back with clips. She looked younger. The dress she wore was cream, and the tan jacket over her shoulders made her look like a very sophisticated version of the young woman who had run around Europe with him.

"You must be Jemma," Tony hissed. His look was one of pure fury and disappointment. Jethro supposed that Jenny could have given Tony advice about his undercover work, but he doubted Jenny would have wanted to share one of her most intimate failings. Now it was coming back to bite her.

Jenny put a similar smaller silver box down on Jethro's desk and used the key from her purse to open it. Jethro's twin knife was put in her bag, and the ID's from the other box went in there too. She felt Jethro's hands behind her as he gripped the collar of her tan jacket and slipped it down her shoulders. Its straps were thin, and a lot of her skin was on show. Just like Europe.

"Let me do this," Jethro whispered as he reached inside the box. The necklace he had bought her for their first anniversary with the stone the same colour of her eyes touched her neck. It slipped down her skin as Jethro did the clasp behind her. She sighed softly as his fingers trembled down her skin.

Jenny swallowed. "Rings?"

"Got 'em."

She reached inside her own box and took out the engagement ring Morrow had given her so many years ago. She slipped it over the appropriate finger, sighing at the cool metal. It was then that Jethro took her hand and pushed on the wedding ring, all part of their cover. All part of getting back into the heads of John and Jemma. There wasn't a lot to get into, just dates and facts. John and Jemma had always been them.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" McGee asked quietly from his seat. It all seemed so intimate, so unreal that they were the same people. He couldn't believe quite how both his bosses had changed so much. It was scary.

Jethro smiled and reached over to clasp his hands over Jenny's cheeks. She automatically closed her eyes and waited for his lips to press against hers. The kiss was soft, tender, a kiss after being apart for so long. They didn't even move away from each other, just rested foreheads and fingers together.

"It'll work," Ducky whispered.

Tony just stood there, watching the display. He now realised that he didn't know a damn thing about Jenny Shepard, or Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

X

It had been decided between Jenny and Jethro that they would spend time in a hotel room before and after the play. Neither of their houses were safe, and it would be easier to control their legends if they were staying somewhere with minimal records. So both had packed a bag, and Tony had been sent with them to make sure everything was secure.

"This whole thing is banking on those men not knowing who the Director of NCIS is," Tony stated from the doorway, still coming to terms with the knowledge of Jenny and Gibbs' previous undercover assignment. His debrief kept playing in his mind, her throwaway words making him sick.

Jethro looked up as he put the duffel bag down onto the floor of the hotel room. "DiNozzo, does anyone know who NCIS is?"

Jenny came out of the bathroom at that point, still looking very much like Jemma. Tony couldn't get over the change. The way she held herself, the way she smiled at Gibbs - hell just the way she _smiled._He watched like a voyeur as Jemma - he couldn't seem to call her Jenny - walked over to her husband and pressed her lips to his cheek.

"Let's hope they don't."

Jethro reached over and curled a hand around Jenny's. He lifted it up to his mouth and kissed it. "I'm going to call Wes, make sure he knows what's going down."

Jenny nodded, slightly unsettled to be left alone with Tony. But Gibbs knew that, and despite the touching and the kissing, they would still have the same problems when they stepped off this operation. Tony would still be angry at the way he was treated after the Frog operation, and he and Jenny would still be trying to not go backwards.

As Jethro went to call Will Decker to inform him that their op was back in play - albeit a smaller version - Jenny went out onto the balcony. There was surveillance in the hotel room, the team not sure how deep Jacques Morrell and his men would check and whether their Paris aliases would make a memory dent. But for now they had a little bit of time before Jemma and John took over completely. Tony double checked their security setup before moving out onto the balcony with her.

"I don't know where to begin. I think a dictionary definition of hypocrite is certainly in order," Tony stated, resting his arms over the railings.

Jenny looked over to him, moving a lock of hair behind her ear. "Go ahead, Tony. I'm waiting."

"You're _waiting_? Well good for you, I'm glad you've got the time to sit here and listen to me yell at you about all the ways you screwed me over. I _loved_her. But it's okay, because you're not supposed to, right? The only way you could have saved yourself a little was if you had shown a damn bit of sympathy. But you didn't, you just _sat__there_and acted like I was a silly kid when you had been in the exact same position I was."

"You don't know a damn thing about the position I was in." Jenny moved into Tony's face, her hand gripping the railings tight. Despite their rank, there was only a few years between them. That was the incredulous thing - Jenny was young but knew what she wanted. And what she had to give up. "You go into an undercover operation knowing that nothing is real. That every time you kiss them, make love to them, it's just you playing a role. Actor on a damn stage. It means _nothing_."

"It was real to me. You knew it was a possibility, when I went undercover. You should have-"

Jenny slammed her hands down on the railings, her hair moving with the energy of the body. "Let it go, Agent DiNozzo. I'm sorry things didn't work out with Jeanne, I am. But you went into that world knowing that it was all a lie. It takes a special sort of person to forgive that, and I guess Jeanne Benoit wasn't one of them." The energy went out of her."Tony, I had every faith that you would be able to see through the fact and fiction and get the job done. You proved me wrong."

"Don't you-"

Jenny looked him in the face, a resolve he had never seen before strong in her eyes. "Don't I, what, Tony? You know the difference between me and Jethro, and you and Jeanne? Your world was always going to be a lie. Ours? It had the potential to be something real, because we based the lie on fact. To everyone else it was fiction, but to us it was fact."

She could hear movement in the hotel room; she knew she had to say this before Jethro came back. "You want the truth, Tony? I will always love Jethro. I will never stop loving him. But our chance is gone, our moment was in Paris and I chose to walk away. Because that's what you do at the end of an undercover operation, Tony, you _walk__away_. You will move on from Jeanne, and I wish that I could do the same."

"Director…"

"You were living two lives, Tony. We were living one life, just with a different past. There was no break, no escape, no downtime. We were the lie, wrapped up together. I'm sorry, Tony, but only a fool falls in love on an undercover operation. I was a fool, but at least I have the guts to admit it."

Jenny left the balcony, her hand lingering over the railings. Tony collapsed against them, struggling to make sense of his own feelings.

X

"You were harsh on him, earlier," Jethro said, reading one of his Russian books under the covers. He knew exactly where the cameras were, and he kept gazing over his pages to stare directly into the camera. Tony, Ziva and Tim were watching them. This was so very unlike Paris.

Jenny came out of the bathroom, wearing one of his old shirts. He smiled; she must have taken it out of his bag. "I didn't know what else to say. Decided to be Director Shepard about it."

"I don't think we were fools to fall in love, Jen."

She looked up from where she was, dragging out the tangles in her hair to stare at Jethro in the bed.

"Considering all we're left with, this half relationship full of arguments, wouldn't it have been better if we'd never fallen in love?"

He sighed, and stepped out from the sheets to take the brush from her hair. He forced her down in front of the dresser and started brushing her hair out. Jethro was surprisingly gentle with her hair, and Jenny sighed softly as he stroked her shoulder.

"I don't regret anything."

Jethro stroked her face, putting her hairbrush down on the dresser. He leaned down, brushing the pads of his fingers over her cheek. Her skin was so soft. He knew he shouldn't, knew that although the camera wouldn't be able to differentiate between John and Jemma and Jethro and Jenny, she would. But he still closed his eyes and moved in for their first real kiss since Paris.

"Jethro."

"I fell in love with you from the moment I met you, Jen. I had no choice," Jethro kissed her bottom lip, taking it between his and slowly sucking on it. He then pressed a butterfly kiss to the corner of her mouth. "Now come to bed, and stop worrying about DiNozzo. He's a big boy, he can handle it."

Jethro moved away from the dresser, while Jenny still sat there. Her fingers were tracing the wood, her body trying hard not to spill what was on her tongue. But it failed her. "I hoped he would fall for her."

Jethro barely heard the whisper, but he heard enough to make himself want to tape Jenny's mouth shut. He turned back around, his arms covering the t-shirt he was wearing to bed. He was so glad that they didn't have ear pieces or microphones in the room.

"Please tell me I didn't hear that."

Jenny looked up from the mirror. "I thought if Tony had his eyes elsewhere, then maybe he wouldn't be tempted to repeat our mistakes."

"I don't follow."

She let out a sad sigh. "Tony and Ziva. You were off in Mexico, you didn't see them. It was like us in the spring before Paris. Completely entwined in each other's lives, hands going where they shouldn't be going. Teasing more foreplay than flirting. I thought that if I put Tony undercover then he would be too busy trying to play the part, maybe develop feelings for Jeanne rather than his partner." She gave him a pleading look. "I didn't expect their relationship to go that far."

"You had no right."

Jethro moved back into the duvet, his book smashing the mirror which Jenny was still staring into. Payback for the glass thrown at his head earlier that day. "Jethro…"

"I really don't know you anymore Jenny."

He turned the lights out, leaving her alone with the cracked shards of mirror.


	5. Second Intermission

**From Paris, With Love by DD Agent**

_I do not own NCIS or any of its characters, or its settings - all belongs to the lovely folks at CBS._

_Thank you to everyone who put this story on alert or has favourited it, makes me so happy to see that people are enjoying what I write! Thank you and pumpkin pie to Maggie, Miss Jayne, IluvMonkeys and NCIS She-Demon for leaving me such great reviews! :D_

_Part Six will be up tomorrow and the concluding chapter will be online at Tuesday. Hope you all continue to enjoy the story! _

**_Intermission_**

_Paris, 1999_

_"Can you tell me one thing that happened in the play?" _

_Jethro shook his head as he and Jenny walked up to their apartment. Her heels were swinging in her hand, the devilish dress she wore coming undone in certain places. He couldn't keep his hands off her, and it wasn't just him with the problem. His tie was in a theatre stall somewhere, and he was pretty sure the zipper on his tuxedo pants would need to be repaired by a blacksmith. _

_"Can you?" Jethro teased, pressing a butterfly kiss to her nose. "A Russian play next time, please! Or a Russian film. Something with explosions, guns."_

_"_From Russia, With Love_?"_

_Jethro chuckled and swung his arms around to pick up Jenny. He moved her hair off her face and kissed her gently. They finally reached their front door and Jenny had to scramble for the keys, trying to put the bronze item in the lock before Jethro pinned her hands to the door. But it was too late for her and for her neck as Jethro bashed her wrist against the doorframe, dropping the key and allowing him to get control of their situation, and her arousal. _

_"Stop it, Jethro, Ducky'll hear."_

_"He's probably asleep anyway. Has had to put in earplugs for us," Jethro spun her around, slamming her against the door again. They had been all over each other in the play, the knowledge that their operation was over was just the catalyst to spark something new in them. In one week John and Jemma would be history, and Jenny and Jethro would be the future. He wanted her to be his future._

_"Okay, well if that's the case."_

_Jenny pushed the fabric of her dress down her body, leaving her in just her underwear in front of Jethro. He grinned and forced her against the door again, his mouth on her collarbone, his hands on her hips. He stood on the dress and managed to find the key to let them inside. _

_The door banged open, Jenny still pressed against it. She managed to get her own back by pressing Jethro against the doorframe, the splinters of wood digging into the back of his suit jacket. Her arms were thrown around his neck, her fingers gripping onto his hair as their tongues tangled with each other. His own were around her ass, forcing her legs to spring up and tighten around his waist. _

_They fell to the sofa, Jethro's suit jacket being tossed onto the coffee table and his suit ripped and thrown over the back of the sofa. Jenny's mouth made her way down Jethro's chest as he finished off his zipper and tore off his trousers. Their kiss was hungry, passionate - the result of a very boring play and small bathroom stalls. _

_The coffee table was the next to go, the wood breaking underneath them as Jethro was slammed onto it, Jenny on top of him. They were only consumed with each other, neither concerned with the operation paperwork that they had spilled over the floor. As Jethro picked Jenny up and decided to carry her to their bedroom where they could continue on in private, he slipped on a folder. _

_"Damn it."_

_"We'll clear up tomorrow." Jenny grinned. "Come on, Jethro, you're not going to leave a girl hanging, are you?"_

_She squealed as Jethro picked her up. She didn't realise until the morning that he had slipped on her new orders, and her plane ticket to Rome. _


	6. Act Three

**From Paris, With Love by DD Agent**

_I do not own NCIS or any of its characters, or its settings - all belongs to the lovely folks at CBS._

_Thank you to everyone who put this story on alert or has favourited it, makes me so happy to see that people are enjoying what I write! Thank you so much left my heart in Paris and Paris-eternellement for leaving such great reviews! :D_

_The concluding part will be online tomorrow. Hope you've all enjoyed it! _

**_Act Three_**

"Do you ever wonder?"

"What?"

"What would have happened if you hadn't have left Gibbs?"

Jenny followed Ziva's gaze, her body collapsing in on itself. They were in a park just around the corner from the hotel, and they were both sitting on the swings watching a small redheaded girl play in the sandpit. Jenny wrung her hands, thinking over the torture that had been the last couple of days. Working beside Jethro again had been hard; she had known it would be. But the revelation that she had deliberately put Tony in that position to stop a repeat of their own failures had made things almost unbearable between them. She was so glad the operation was over tonight.

"It wouldn't have worked. I would have still wanted to avenge my father, and he…honestly? I think Jethro would have tried to do anything to make us work. He would never be the problem."

Ziva looked down to the floor, and then at her friend. It was like old times, meeting in between operations in random places. Only this time they knew too much about each other.

"Tony is…he's confused."

"He's not the only one. I keep trying to do what's best - what was best for me, the Agency, you both…Jethro. But I can never seem to get it right."

Ziva ran her hands down the links of the swings. "When you first met Jethro, when you were a probie - what would she have done?"

"I'd have made you take the shot at the Frog, no matter who yelled at me. Me and Jethro would certainly be sleeping together; I could never get enough of him. Fell hook, line and sinker the first time I met him. He was the one who made me feel like I had a family."

Ziva rested her hand over hers, their friendship starting to return. "Something I have learnt working here is when in doubt, go back to the beginning."

Jenny smiled.

X

He was standing in front of the dresser, fiddling with his bowtie. It just wouldn't sit right on him; he hated the damn thing in the first place. He always preferred to wear ties when he could, but that wouldn't look right tonight. So Jethro stood in front of the mirror, with the two ends of fabric, staring at the glass he had smashed. His brain tried to register the different shards of his features but all he was left with was a cold feeling in his chest.

"Do you need help with that?"

Jethro looked up and felt his heart stop, just for that moment. He'd been looking at her dress for tonight for the last couple of days, a dazzling black affair that would make Jenny stand out and blend in all at the same time. But what his former partner wore wasn't that dress. It was a lilac silk one that cut across her knees. The pale wrap around her shoulders would barely keep her warm.

"I know that dress."

Jenny smiled. "The first time we danced together, I wore this. You wore a tie; I'm greatly impressed you're branching out into bowties for tonight."

"That's a Jenny dress. Not a Jemma dress."

Jenny moved over to him. She was bare foot, hadn't slipped into the elegant shoes he knew were somewhere. She straightened his back in the mirror and moved her arms around his neck to tie the bowtie. Her hair was down rather than the up style she had decided upon previously. She was playing a very dangerous game, as she was definitely dressed like Jenny tonight. As she fixed his bowtie, Jethro turned to the mirror. She looked whole.

"You're going to be cold out there," Jethro ran his arms down her shoulders. "We should get going if we're to investigate this Cyrano guy during intermission. Thank god we've already seen the play."

She laughed before going to find her shoes. Once she was ready, Jethro opened the door to their hotel room for her. His glasses felt heavy on his nose, as did the wedding ring on his finger. Jenny kept fiddling with hers, but then she had always done that.

Outside the hotel was a town car and Tony dressed like a chauffeur. He looked quite dashing, and Jenny gave him a pale smile as he helped her inside the car. Jethro sat on the other side of her, taking her hand gently within his. He wasn't worried about the operation, he was sure it would go down fine. It was more what happened after the curtain had fallen for the last time, the bad guys had been arrested and they were left with _this_. He wasn't sure where they could go after this.

"Everything's set boss. During intermission, McGee will cause a distraction and you two will be free to go back stage, find evidence about Cyrano and arrest him. Good luck."

Jenny smiled. "Aren't you supposed to say 'break a leg'?"

"You will in those heels," Jethro hissed as he sat in the back seat, frowning at her shoes. She gave him an eye roll before burying herself against his side and closing her eyes. They were still supposed to be playing the role of husband and wife, and Jethro watched as she rested against him. How many times had they sat like this in the back of taxis, in the luggage holds of boats?

Ten minutes into their journey, Tony shifted in his seat as they got to a red light. Something was on his mind and he was ready to spill. That hadn't gone well the last time someone had felt like that. "Boss, McGee installed a microphone in your hotel room on my orders." Jethro held his breath. "If she wasn't my boss, I'd kill her."

Jethro watched as Jenny's chest moved up and down. She had given the bed to him; she hadn't slept since their argument. Just stood on the balcony and looked towards the stars. He hoped this would work; they hadn't played these roles in quite some time. In a perfect world they would have had a couple of weeks to put this plan into action, to get used to working together again. But it wasn't a perfect world, not even close.

"You love her, Tony?"

"Of course I love her, boss," Tony gritted his teeth as the light changed from red to green. They drove forward. "That's what this whole thing has been about. Me and Jeanne."

"Wasn't talking about Jeanne." Jethro brushed some hair off of Jenny's face. He had always liked watching her sleep, seeing his little storm at peace. He supposed Jenny sleeping was like being in the eye of the storm. "Moment I met Jenny, I was attracted to her. Tried hard not to fall in love with her, would have ruined everything. And it did, I guess. You should have seen us, Tony. Back in the day. We were incredible."

A few more streets and they were at the theatre. Tony cruised the car to a stop, before looking at all the glamorous sophisticates of Washington DC attending the opening night of the play. Tony turned back to look at his bosses, and was once more bowled over by the intimate moment of them playing their aliases. He almost wished he could go back and watch them run together all over Europe.

"What should I do, Boss? About me and Jenny?"

"We're all fools, DiNozzo. We all want a perfect life, a perfect world. We all want something we can't have. Forgiveness is a hard thing, and respect is an even harder concept." Jethro pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You have no respect for her as a Director, and that's okay. I have none either, hadn't had for a long time. But you watch her tonight, you watch her as an agent. And you have respect for her as that."

Tony watched in the rear-view mirror as his boss pressed his mouth lightly to Jenny's. She stirred in his embrace and her eyelids fluttered open to see him gazing down at her.

"Come on; let's go catch the bad guys."

DiNozzo watched as Jenny and Gibbs stepped out of the car. They turned to look towards the Play House, magically transformed from the dingy village hall appearance to something resembling the Paris streets. She gripped his hand, and Tony watched over them as they walked inside, handing over their tickets. He could hear them in his earpiece. There was no reinforcement of their cover story, no long rambles about how they had seen this in '99. Just a smile, a tip and a kiss on the lips.

They were ghosts. But they were ghosts together.

X

Ducky had got them a private box. It meant they could observe the goings on in the theatre and look down on the stage. Jethro was using Ducky's borrowed opera glasses to stare at the lead actors bald spot, while Jenny was looking down at the seats of those who had come to the performance. She recognised a few eager faces from her days in Paris, but it was the man sitting centre in the front row that caught her gaze.

"Cyrano's here."

Jethro took the opera glasses to where Jenny whispered, but just smiled. "He's got a friend. Very dangerous guy sitting next to him. Could be trouble."

He said the words with a grin, and it wasn't until Jenny looked down and saw that it was McGee sitting next to Cyrano that she joined in. She rested her head on Jethro's shoulder and moved her hand over his thigh.

"I hate feeling on show like this," Jenny whispered in his ear, and Jethro nodded. "I know you had thoughts about what tonight could do for…relationships," she said, referring to his and Tony's conversation earlier that she had obviously been awake for. "But we've never been good with an audience."

"This is true."

Jenny slipped two envelopes into his lap and sat backwards in her seat, staring at the ceiling. "Long dresses aren't good for state executions."

Jethro opened the first envelope and found burn orders that said they could execute Jacques Morrell. He knew it would come down to this, that his government would want to kill the single man than lose the entire chain. It was likely that the Pierre guy could or had been swayed by the CIA, an easy replacement for what the Frog had done for them. Cyrano was too dangerous to be left alive. And that was where they came in.

"What's in the second envelope?"

"Open it and see."

He did just that and tipped it out to find two tickets for another play. It was a Russian performance, one that he had actually read and enjoyed. In fact, Jenny had bought him the script for his birthday.

"I do believe you're owed." She kissed him on the throat, before gathering her belongings. "Whatever happens tonight, John, I want you to know something."

"Don't apologise, Jem, it won't mean anything."

She smiled. "I would never _dare _apologise, John. I was just going to say that…" She kissed him again. "I wanted to say that I'm still a fool, because it's only just registered that you are all I have. Jethro, you're all I want."

Her earpiece was dropped to the floor as she went to the bathroom, and Jethro adjusted his bowtie before dropping his and following her. State executions didn't require taped evidence, or junior agents getting involved. It was better for everyone if they did what they did best: become ghosts.

In the corridor he caught up with her easily enough, forced his mouth along hers. Such an easy ploy, but then no one suspected a couple going off to have sex. They both knew that McGee would be aware something was wrong soon, but they hoped he would have the sense to stay put. They didn't want to put his life at risk.

The game had changed, like they both had thought it would. Jethro could almost hear the ringing of his cell phone as Tony tried to call him. But all they had was a pair of burn phones, their real phones back in Jenny's office. The burn phones themselves were back at their hotel room. Out of contact, just the way they liked it. In the women's toilet stall, Jethro managed to find the bag that had been dropped there.

"It was always going to come to this."

"God bless Decker."

The brown package hidden behind the ladies toilet held two guns, and two silencers. They screwed them on like professionals, as they had done many times before. Jethro watched as Jenny's hands didn't tremble as she built the gun, like they had in Paris.

"Little Probie's all grown up."

Jenny slammed the clip into the gun, before bracing her hands on the walls. "Been a busy eight and a half years. Killed a lot of people."

"Aim as good as ever?"

She spun back into his arms, and he pulled her to his waist. The dress she was wearing was better for running, and he knew his partner could run in heels. Jethro gave in for one moment and kissed her. Her hands went to caress his face, her lips moved over his. Guns were forgotten; the arms dealers waiting to be executed outside were forgotten. Just for one moment, they were back in Paris seeing the play one week before she would leave. For one moment all the pain was gone. All the anguish and lies were gone in this one kiss as they were reunited. Partners again.

"I love you," Jethro whispered against her skin as the kiss broke and he watched his lover cry.

"Always, faithfully," she whispered back, pressing her lips to his throat.

X

She was bait.

Little lost American beauty, walking backstage of the theatre. Someone would soon come and escort her, and that was when she'd start making trouble. Jenny stepped over cables and boxes of props, looking for something in the dark of the stage. Her wrap was long gone, left behind in the box. Her earpiece was elsewhere, her lover waiting behind her in the wings. She stepped up to stage right and watched as the main character stared at his lover with his gun resting in his hands, not sure whether to shoot her or to shoot himself.

McGee was still in the front row, and he was looking up instead of down into tissues like everyone on the front row was. He caught Jenny's gaze before she disappeared amongst the curtains. Cyrano was not there. He must be waiting backstage. Jenny chambered a round.

She crept through the back of the theatre, ran her hand down the thick curtains as she forced herself to go further backstage. She heard a noise and raised her gun, keeping her senses awake to hear if anyone advanced on her position or if Jethro was right on her heels.

She went further into the theatre, and walked through the brightly lit corridor of the dressing rooms. After sensing nothing, she dropped her gun down to her side and continued to walk past the doors. Some were open, badly polished mirrors and red stained walls holding all manner of blood stained costumes on show for her.

"Ms Barrett, you're late for this party."

Jenny turned to her left and caught sight of Cyrano and several of his goons. They were in an office leading to the generator room in the basement. She was outnumbered, but then when wasn't she outnumbered? She had a gun; she was quick on her feet. And more importantly she had an answer as to why they had shut down operations in Paris. They had been compromised.

Walking in, she stood in front of Cyrano. He was a tall man, with dirty blonde hair and awkward good looks. He appraised her as he would do an equal, a business partner. Rather than the person who would put a bullet in his head.

"There were stories, urban legends about a couple working with intelligence agencies throughout Europe in the late nineties. After Anatoly was murdered, Svetlana tracked you to your alias. We've all been watching you; waiting for you and your husband to return to this world. Eight years is a long time to be dormant."

Jenny grinned. "Been playing a few other roles, haven't had time to track down all the arms dealers yet. But I'm getting there. It was only a matter of time after I put a bullet in Rene Benoit."

Cyrano and his associates looked at her with new eyes, new fear. Jenny looked steadfast at them, hoping that Jethro wasn't too close. It seemed she had too many secrets. Cyrano stood up, his hand gripping his weapon tight. "We were all under the assumption that Benoit was missing, under CIA protection."

"No. I put a bullet right through his head," Jenny smiled and raised her gun, taking out one of his men behind Cyrano in a simple shot. No one stopped her, Cyrano even looked impressed. "You're running guns, girls? Doesn't really matter to me. I have the paperwork telling me to end you, and that's it. I don't care about anything else."

It was Cyrano's turn to smile, and it unnerved Jenny. Granted she wasn't the most fearsome of creatures, but they had looked impressed before. "Is that so?"

She was still standing as Pierre opened a door into the generator room. She was still holding her gun, trying to figure out why Jethro hadn't come to give her back up, hadn't shot Cyrano and took her back to their box. Then Pierre came back with her beaten lover, his beautiful blue eyes bruised, and she knew. Pierre shoved him in a chair and put tape around his wrists, holding him in place.

They hadn't been ready for this. They hadn't played these roles for _so_ long. And now everything was unravelling. They were _better_than this, or at least they had been.

"I should end him because you killed one of my men, but I won't," Cyrano whispered. "I honestly don't think a cold bitch like you would care."

Jenny's eyes faltered for one moment, looking at Jethro in pain. Cyrano took his chance and smacked his forehead against Jenny's, knocking her to the floor. Jethro kicked in protest, screaming as Cyrano picked her up by her neck and forced his mouth over hers. Her gun was shoved aside in the scuffle and she was soon thrown back to the floor. She moved instantly to Jethro and one hand managed to grip onto his. Cyrano broke every bone in her other as he stamped down upon it.

"I expected better. Obviously that eight year break hasn't done you any good." Cyrano laughed, twisting his foot over Jenny's hand. "You know, everyone always wondered whether you were really married or whether it was all an act."

Jethro coughed blood onto the floor, looking down at his partner with the only apology she would ever receive from him. "It's all one big act. She's just a Probie, trying to be an Agent. _Let __her __go_."

Jenny shook her head and gripped onto his hand. "Never was an act. Never was a mistake."

Cyrano rolled his eyes and found Jenny's gun on the floor. "When I saw your names, I got excited at the prospect of tonight. But this is getting boring now, the tragic partner love affair. Time for your curtain call, I think." He pulled the trigger of the gun at Jethro. It wouldn't work. "What the…"

Jenny smacked Pierre in the ankles and dropped him to his feet, right onto the metal table next to them. Jethro's now free hand put the firing pin from Jenny's gun into the last man's neck, blood going everywhere. Behind him, Cyrano smacked Jenny in the face with her gun, dropping her to the floor. Jethro finished off Pierre before rushing over to Jenny's side, cursing Cyrano. He was already gone.

Jethro picked her up, stroking her bloodshot eye, bleeding lip and bulging cheek. "I got distracted by those damn play tickets," he wrapped his arm around her. "You're always so distracting. Gotta solve that."

He set her on her feet. She returned the now bloody firing pin to her gun, her broken hand making her scream in pain. But they would get through it. They had completed ops with a bullet in her, they could do this. "What would you have us do, Jethro?"

"Was thinking dinner. May as well get back together, nothing else has worked," he muttered as he took Pierre's gun and checked the clip.

She gripped his collar and kissed him, needing him like she always had. "After the op."

"Yes ma'am."

They hunted Cyrano like the assassins they were. Both were battered and bruised, but would survive. They stalked through the corridors, guns in hand just as the fire alarm went. Swearing aloud, they ran towards the stage. Cyrano was waiting there, gun loose in his hand and staring up at the bright theatre lights. The audience were filing out of the doors, most of them screaming. The actors who had been on stage were now dead.

"All the world's a stage. How we appear to others, how we appear to ourselves. The same mindless performance day after day but if you slip one night it will come back to haunt you. You can try and mend it, but everyone will remember that one slip."

Jenny and Jethro walked slowly onto the stage but Cyrano turned to them, and fired his gun. Jenny cried out as she took the round in her shoulder. The world stopped for Jethro as Jenny fell to the stage. He just looked at her, and the blood smearing her skin.

"FEDERAL AGENTS! HANDS UP!"

Jethro turned to see Tony and Ziva standing there, joining McGee in pointing their guns at Cyrano. He turned his own weapon on him, but Cyrano just laughed.

"You're a federal agent? I thought maybe military intelligence, not a federal agent without intelligence. Would explain the gap in between operations of course. And would make me see how your little wifey could go from leaving Svetlana alive to assassinating Rene," Cyrano stood on the stage, grinning. "I'm willing to surrender. You can use me for your own devices, I'll give up my network of contacts, work with your CIA. Just don't put me in prison."

Jethro put his other hand around the gun. This man was no fool. He knew what he was worth to the government, knew that with all his people dead he was worth a lot more. He could get away with murder, and none of the higher ups would give a damn if they could be the boys in charge of the sandpit. "Tell me what happened with Corporal Tracey."

Cyrano smiling. "I knew hiring a marine was dodgy, but we wanted someone who wouldn't ask too many questions. Chose wrong, of course. He asked the wrong questions about what we were moving in and out of here, and got himself killed for his trouble. Pity, I sort of liked him. Is that why you came here? To find his killer?" Cyrano kicked one of the dead men on stage. "If you had never found his body, like you were _supposed _to, we wouldn't be in this mess. Now don't I feel foolish?"

Jenny groaned from off stage, and Jethro took one look at his bleeding partner before pushing his gun in Cyrano's face.

"Boss, put the gun down," Tony whispered from off stage. "He's already surrendered, we can patch her up. She'll be okay."

The world had gone numb. All Jethro could focus on was Jenny and Cyrano, nothing else.

"You hurt her," Jethro stated, biting his bottom lip. "You _shot _her. I killed the last man that hurt her. And the one before that."

Tony DiNozzo watched as his boss' face turned into something darker, his hand almost pulling the trigger. There was fury in that face, love so broken that Tony didn't want to imagine how hard his heart was beating.

"Gibbs, put the gun down."

Jethro held it tight in his hand. "Be grateful, DiNozzo. Be grateful you _never_have to feel like this. Have your partner and your lover so entwined it hurts because every day you worry about them dying. And when it happens, there is no one to pull you back from the edge."

Cyrano just started laughing on stage, chuckling at Jethro's pain and the bleeding woman behind him. That was until a shot was put clean through his skull, and he dropped to the floor. Gibbs looked at the gun in front of him, but it wasn't until a sharply dressed man came on stage and kicked Cyrano to make sure he was dead that he realised who had taken the shot.

"I hate opening nights," he coughed. "So many mistakes on stage, no one knows their lines. For example, Jethro I do believe your line is…" the man looked up from under his hat. "Thank you Deck."

Jethro laughed in relief at the sight of Will Decker and his gun. "Thank you Deck."

Jethro dropped his gun to the floor, and looked over where his three agents stood. He then rushed to Jenny's side, where Will was trying to revive her. The shock of her broken hand and the bullet in her shoulder seemed to take a lot out of her.

"Oh Jenny, what has your heart got you into this time?"

Tony, Ziva and McGee walked over to the scene, not sure what there was left to say. They could get an explanation of who this man was, and why he had taken the shot, but they didn't think they would. It was obvious that this operation had really been well above their clearance.

Tony looked at Jenny stirring in this new man's hands. He turned towards Gibbs, not sure what to make of the man in front of him. "I wouldn't be so sure of that. She's changed," he spat, his emotions all over the place. But really all he felt was relief. That would never be him.

Jenny opened her eyes to look at Decker before closing them again. Decker smiled. "I've known Jenny Shepard for over ten years. She always thinks with her heart, it's why she gets into such a mess. She's only thought with her head once, although that ended up a mess too." He checked her pulse. "Carry her, Jethro; we need to get her to a hospital."

Jethro slipped his arms around Jenny, holding her close to him. She stirred, pulling herself against his chest. They could hear the sirens outside; and he knew that he could leave Tony, Ziva and McGee to clear up the corpses. They would get their answers, but not tonight.

"What was the time she used her head?" he heard Tony ask Decker as they checked pulses.

He was almost at the stage door when Decker replied.

"Leaving him in Paris."


	7. Home

**From Paris, With Love by DD Agent**

_I do not own NCIS or any of its characters, or its settings - all belongs to the lovely folks at CBS._

_Thank you to everyone who put this story on alert or has favourited it, makes me so happy to see that people have enjoed this! Extra special t__hank you to left my heart in Paris, TheBreakfastGenie, NCIS She-Demon, Besilea and jstapny for leaving such great reviews! :D_

_I really loved writing this, its one of my favourite ones. I'm currently writing a seriously badass NCIS fic that, if I pull it off, could be the best thing I have ever written. Or at least the coolest. Keep 'em peeled, and I hope you like this final chapter!_

**_Home_**

She was slow getting to the door, and when Jenny Shepard opened up to him she looked tired. Jethro smiled at her in the door frame, looking over the bruising in her face now turned to yellow, and the sling around her arm with sadness. But she looked happy to see him, and that was all that mattered. She was _alive_. That was all that mattered.

"Missed you at work. Tied up all the loose ends about Cyrano and Corporal Tracey," Jethro coughed, not sure how to bring up the next part. "The loose ends involving Benoit and Svetlana…"

Jenny pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. It was best to get all the business out of the way first, even though they hadn't seen each other in over a fortnight. "Have been dealt with. I called in a favour to sort out two of my _many_ mistakes. The CIA wanted him dead anyway, and Svetlana…well the person I owe managed to take the shot when I couldn't."

Jethro leaned into the doorway and put both hands either side of Jenny's face. He stroked her cheek, watching as she closed her eyes under his ministrations. "What you going to do now?"

"I don't know. I always wanted this, to be Director. Not just for my own personal reasons. I wanted to do so much with NCIS. The OSP was one of those things, but there is so much more on my NCIS bucket list." Jenny swallowed. "This time I'm going to do it right. Going to earn back your team's respect, your trust. Earn back my own self respect. Everyone makes mistakes, but it's how you fix them that counts."

Jethro smiled, removing his hands from her face and digging them into his pockets. "A fresh start. Sounds good to me, Jen. I think it should apply for us too."

Jenny nodded, resting her hand against the doorframe. "Will told me what you were like when I was shot…"

"That's why I can understand what you did with Benoit." Jethro ran his fingers over hers. "If Benoit had killed you, I would have done things to him…I would have made him suffer. Starting to see why you didn't want Tony and Ziva in our position. It's dangerous. You can't have that in an operational context, not in a standard one anyway." He watched the ends of her mouth lift up. "You're not completely off the hook, Shepard. Got a long way to go. But we're on the right path."

Jenny nodded and reached for Jethro. She pulled at his shirt with her free hand, and Jethro wrapped his arms around her. She leaned up to rest her lips against his, and he softly kissed her back, taking his time to really appreciate how she tasted, how the contours of her lips felt against his own. He had forgotten what it felt like to come close to losing her.

"Fresh start," Jenny whispered against his jaw. "You know there was once a time when I would have asked you to stay. And I wouldn't have taken no for an answer."

Jethro nodded and pressed his lips to Jenny's forehead. She knew what his answer would be. They would have to take things slow, work on their relationship at work before they could go back to the beginning as lovers. But as Jethro said, they were on the right path.

But she wasn't always able to read his mind. "I have those play tickets. You do oweme, Shepard."

Jenny couldn't believe his response. She looked into his face to see if he was serious, if they were really doing this. She beamed like the sun when she realised he was. "I'll grab my coat."

She locked the door behind them as they headed out into the night. Jethro rested his arm around Jenny's waist as they walked along the street. He kissed the top of her head, her hand clinging to his shirt.

The curtain was raised on a new act, the actors ready to begin something different.

The chessboard was thrown out the window, pieces scattered on the pavement.

And fools kissed happily on the street, lost to the world around them.

Returning to the beginning.


End file.
